


A Palace of Crows

by ShippingsandDeamons



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi Goro Has A Palace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2020-12-14 13:46:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21016751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippingsandDeamons/pseuds/ShippingsandDeamons
Summary: Personas were one's own shadow turned into the power of their heart, but if that heart was distorted enough, a shadow and persona could exist as separate entities. It 's a desperate gamble, with the clock ticking down to December 18th, but the Phantom Thieves of Heart aren't in the business of playing it safe, especally when Akechi's palace could answer so many of their hardest questions. But palaces are born from distortion, and the secret pain of Akechi's own heart is far from the evil they grew to be used to.





	1. The Question

It had been an accident really; a laps in concentration combined with frustration. 

Akira was mulling over potential keywords to Shido’s palace, the metanav open on his phone, which was sitting unassumingly on Leblanc’s bar counter. They already knew the name and the location of his Palace (how fitting that he saw the diet building as something more than just a congregation of politicians), but they were still clueless as to what Shido perceived the diet building as.

The bell attached to the café’s door jangled lightly as Morgana returned from his walk. He gave the black feline a half-smile. Morgana hoped into one of the bar chairs with ease before climbing up onto the bar counter.

“No luck?” He murmured.

Akira shook his head. “Sorry,”

“It’s fine,” the cat replied. “let’s take a break, we can both try again once we’ve cooled off a bit.”

Morgana was right, they had been at it for several hours now, tossing one word or another around, hoping that eventually, one would stick. If they went at it any longer, their minds would start sinning into circles, trapping them in a rut and halting progress further. Breaks were important, especially when dealing with important matters. And getting into Shido’s palace was more than important. 

If they were right, and Masayoshi Shido was the man on the other end of Akechi’s phone calls, then he was the puppet master behind the mental shutdowns and psychotic breakdowns. He was not the honest and righteous man he portrayed himself to be in the public eye, the fact he’d pinned a false crime on Akira himself was proof of such vileness. 

Why was Akechi working for such a man? Did he hope to gain something from being Shido’s attack dog, or was their another reason he was working for him?

“Even though he’s killed, even though he betrayed and nearly killed me as well, I still feel like I’d forgive him,” Akira felt the words lips past his lips before he even had a chance to register thinking them. Oh well, he trusted Morgana to understand, they were close after all. Morgana gave him a curious look.

“You’re talking about Akechi, aren’t you,” he meowed. Akira nodded.

Morgana used a hind paw to scratch as his face. “Well, you knew him the best out of all of us, if you think there’s a good reason he’s following Shido’s orders, then there likely is,”

The ebony-haired boy smiled. He knew Morgana, at least, would understand. Yes, he had actively tried to get close to the detective on several occasions, even before Akechi had broken his way into their ranks. The older boy was an enigma; always wearing a porcelain mask of false kindness and cheer. He acted happy and content, but the dead darkness that lurked in the dark crimson wine of his eyes told a different story. They whispered of a dark tragedy filled with pain and betrayal, of a hear wounded too many times to continue to trust.

Futaba, with her computer magic, had confirmed that Akechi was indeed an orphan who’d lost his mother at almost the same age Yusuke had lost his own, and had been thrown uncaring into the foster system, being passed around before achieving a scholarship to a prestigious high school here in Tokyo. He hadn’t lied to Akira then, why he’d even revealed such a fact about himself in the first place was up for debate, but he had been honest then.

“It’s a shame persona users don’t have palaces, otherwise we could just enter ‘Goro Akechi’ into the nav and talk to his shadow directly.” Akira joked.

“Candidate found,” The monotonous tone of the metanav chirped. Both parties froze.

Gingerly picking up his phone, he’d completely forgotten that the app was still open, sure enough, Akechi’s name had been accepted. He gave Morgana a questioning look.

“Hmm, this is odd,” the feline said slowly. “Normally, a person’s shadow turns into their persona, you saw that happen with Futaba, Though, perhaps if the distortion is strong enough, a persona and shadow might separate completely, becoming two different entities entirely, but I can only imagen how distorted a heart has to be to have both a persona and a shadow.”

Having a palace didn’t necessarily mean that the distortion was evil in nature, Futaba’s tomb was living proof. Akira’s fingers itched to solve the next two keys words, to charge into the palace and see the stat Akechi’s heart was in.

“…for now, we’ll wait on this,” Akira decided. “We’ll inform the others about this after we’ve seen Shido’s palace.”

“Fine by me, Shido is arguably the bigger threat at the moment,” Morgana agreed.

Silently, Akira closed the metanav. He was almost certain Akechi’s distortion was the same as Futaba’s; born from a pain so deep and agonizing it ruled a person. Before the betrayal, back when Akechi was still a member of their team, he’d watch the brunette fight shadows, lith body moving gracefully as he wove a dance of battle and death. What could drive a person to kill? He often found himself asking that question. How long had Akechi been a persona user? It was some time before June of that year, considering he’d been able to understand Morgana long before September, as he’d claimed.

Unlike everyone else, Akechi awoke to his persona alone. Was it in a fit of desperation, a fight for survival like his and Ryuji’s had? Was it the desire to destroy a weak resolve and avenge a fallen friend, like Ann? Was it from spiteful words spurion on a rebellion to cast of a weak self, like Makoto and Yusuke? Was it from facing one’s inner torment like Futaba? Or was it betrayal, like Haru? Akira had soon found Morgana after his awakening, and had the cat as a mentor, ad all of the others had been with them during their awakening. Haru had Morgana the first time, and all of them the second.

Beyond that, it was Morgana that informed them of how to change a person’s heart. If he hadn’t been present when Shiho fell, to guide them and give them a third option, there was a chance Kamoshida’s shadow would have perished in the end. Was that why Akechi killed, because he knew of no other way?

Despite knowing Akechi the best, arguably out of anyone who knew him, the other was still so much pf an enigma. He never showed his true self, always hiding behind masks. He didn’t trust anyone to get close enough to see past the masks and lies. What would his heart be like? Would his shadow be just as guarded as him, wearing his own mask? Would he be as honest as the other shadows, spouting his true feelings with ease, or were the lies so deep than not even his heart could be honest anymore?

Despite these numerous questions, Akira sliped into a dreamless sleep the moment his head touched his pillow.


	2. Second Target

A luxury cruise sailing proudly through the sunken remains of a ruined, post-apocalyptic Japan; this distorted world truly fit the megalomaniac that was Shido Masayoshi to a T. The inside wasn’t much better; the entire interior of the main dance hall dripping in gold and other such luxury, masked guest flittering about in the finest of suits and dresses. It was riches for the sake of riches. It wasn’t to the point of being downright gaudy as Madarame’s museum had been, but all the precious stones and metal were becoming taxing to the eye. Speakers in calculated locations blasted not music on an endless loop, but Shido’s speeches, his voice almost a white noise.

Despite already being in their metaverse outfits, the cognitions representing people paid them no attention at all, gossiping mindlessly amongst themselves in that hidden poisonous way that only people with power could. The shadow hounds and armed guards patrolled frequently, and did attack when given the chance. The guests regarded such skirmishes as entertainment; something to keep themselves amused as they passed the time.

This infiltration was nothing more than to scope out the palace and get a feel for both it and it’s ruler, so when their progress was halted by thick doors and a fetch quest, no one was terribly frustrated. 5 keys in the form of 5 leters of recommendation, each held by 5 people Shido considered VIPs- most likely part of his innermost circle. A part of Akira wondered in the cleaner referred to Akechi Goro, considering he was Shido’s pet hitman. They would find out, when it came time to collect that final letter.

What would Akechi’s palace look like? Would it be pompous and grand? Would it be desolate and isolated? Ren suspected the latter, considering how closed and guarded the detective’s heart was, and the lengths he took to keep people at arm’s length. Despite his princely outfit, Akechi didn’t seem like one for indulgence.

Well, they would find out soon enough, if the Phantom Thieves decided stealing his heart was worth it.

“So far, it seems like we’ll just need those letters of recommendation,” Makoto stated cooly. 

“Yeah,” Ann agreed. “But, we can't be so sure there aren’t other gates and whatnot past that door.”

“Lady Ann is right, we should get those letters as soon as possible, but there is something Akira and I need to inform you all of, first,” Morgana interjected. 

7 sets of eyes fell on their leader, 8 with Morgana, but the feline already knew what he was about to say. Most of it, anyhow. Pulling out his phone, he opened the metanav and placed it flat on the table.

“Goro Akechi, all of Japan,” He said clearly.

“Input verified,” The navi replied mechanically.

Surprise, shock, and everything between pained his friends' faces.

“Ahh, so you were able to figure out another keyword,” Morgana mused.

“So, wait, that bastard Akechi has a palace?!” Ryuji howled.

Ann punched the bleach blond in the arm. “Can it Ryuji, your too loud!”

“Yes, Akira and I stumbled upon this fact by accident not too long ago, while trying to figure out the rest of Shido’s kay words, we decided to wait until after seeing Shido’s palace before revealing this,” Morgana explained.

“So he sees the entirety of Japan as something it’s not, how egotistical,” Yusuke muttered.

“But, wait, Morgana, didn’t you say that persona users couldn’t have palaces?” Makoto asked.

“Oh right, Mona did say something like that,” Ryuji commented.

“Normally, such a thing should be impossible; a persona is just a shadow that had been appeased and tamed by one’s heart, and turned into a great power,” Morgana relented, scratching behind his right ear. “But, hypothetically, it might be possible for a shadow and persona to become two separate entities, if the person's heart and their distortion is strong enough,”

“So basically, Akechhi’s heart is so messed up that it’s split in two,” Futaba translated.

“In essence, yes,”

“Let’s go then, changin’ Akechi’s heart will gotta have an effect on Shido!” Ryuji said. “At the very least, he won't be a problem when we go after Shido’s treasure,”

“Akira, have you figured out what his distortion is?” Haro asked quietly, her lips white from being pressed together so firmly. He shook his head.

“What? But don’t you know Akechi best?” Ann asked.

“Yes, arguably I do know him best. But, Akechi hides himself away, he refuses to let anyone in,” Akira replied.

“Well then, time to blindly throw out words, I guess,” Ryuji sighed, collapsing into a chair. “So then, what does Mr. Big shit see Japan as?” 

The age-old tradition of ‘guess that distortion’ began as it always did. Ryuji, as always, tossed out castle, as though someone could see an entire country as a building. Ann was a little more creating in her suggestions of prison, heaven, and oasis. Haru tried war, and Yusuke muttered stage. Nothing.

“Hmm, I wonder if his metaverse outfit might offer a clue,” Makoto pondered.

“Maybe, the outfit was shaped by his mind after all,” Futaba pointed out. “but ‘prince’ isn’t exactly much of a hint, maybe his persona is a better clue.”

“Well, in regards to his clothes, Akechi did somewhat look like a prince from some kingdom in the middle ages,” Haru agreed. “And wasn't Robin Hood a noble thief who stole from the rich during that time?”

“Input excepted, calculating rout to destination.” The metanav chimed in.

The attic was silent for a full 3 seconds as all 8 of them stared at his phone in wonder.

“Wait, seriously?!” Ryuji yelped.

Before anyone would shush the blond a second time, the world around them was already starting to shift at the seams. “You have arrived at your destination.”

“Um, what changed?”

Leblanc’s attic was still the same, from the low beam to the light layer of dust, even all of Akira’s nick-nacks were there. If not for Morgana being bipedal, and their clothes haveing changed, it might have seemed that they were still in the real world. Downstairs, a cognitive Sojiro was brewing a pot of coffee in an empty café, the interior that same as usual. The older man didn’t even look up as they passed him.

Outside wasn’t the usual urban back ally of Yongen-Jaya. A dark sky was spread out above them, even if it was early evening when they entered. All skyscrapers jutted out, black silhouettes against an even blacker sky. People walked by on the busy main street, none even giving the thieves a passing glance.


	3. Akechi's Palace

Yongen-Jaya was one of the more rural, suburban even, parts of Tokyo, with thinner crowds and fewer people hustling by. Akechi’s palace was far different. Most of the smaller shops and housing were replaced by towering multi-story buildings and shining lights. Droves of people, all relatively normal looking, passed by on the busy sidewalks and cars zoomed up and down busy streets. Stationed on a few select corners, police officers arm to the teeth stood unmoving, eyes like razor blades scanning over the crowds. Their masked faces and shadow-dark skin indicated that they were more than just cops, and shadows waiting to lash out.

So far, Shadow Akechi was nowhere to be found. Whether or not the palace ruler was aware of their presence, it was clear by their outfits that they were considered threats. Made sense, considering even if the ruler in question wasn’t aware of intruders, the palace itself could detect a threat on its own. Airing on the side of caution, they kept to the shadows of back streets and alleyways to avoid having to confront the restless shadows, leaving such safety only to dart across crosswalks and the like.  
Again, the lack of Akechi’s presence was noticeable.

“We’ve been in here for a while now, and still we haven’t seen even a glimpse of Akechi, how strange,” Yusuke- Fox- noted.

“Well, with a palace this large, all encompassed by such a strong distortion, Akechi’s shadow could be anywhere.” Mona pointed out.

The underground subway was relatively shadow-free. Plain faced passerby’s marked onward, pressed in the muted grey suits of salary workers making the commute to and frow from work. There were very few shadow officers present, and all easy to avoid. It was a simple enough mater to slip past the automated gates and enter any train they pleased. None of the cognitions paid them any attention, despite just how striking and odd they were dressed, from Panther’s skin-tight ruby red leather body suit, to Queen’s hell biker leather. Even Joker and Noir, the less flashy of the bunch, were strikingly different from the drab work suits and plain colors.

All palaces before were comprised of multiple floors with many different rooms and hallways. It was almost like they took inspiration from mementos with it’s twisting paths any many levels. Akechi’s palace was a departure from such a norm. Despite all the dowering buildings and glaring lighting, the layout was 1:1 with the actual Tokyo. A gut feeling told Joker that there was more to this than just what he saw.

Eventually, they found Akechi’s shadow.

The person in question was at the center of a mass of people all clamoring for his attention. Faces and bodies blurred together, as though the mass was just one entity in itself. Was that how Akechi saw his fans? As blobs of people to closely similar that individuals just bled together?

Shadow Akechi hadn’t noticed them, to distracted by the roaring din and smothering press of bodies to see them in the shadows. His face was hidden by a crimson mask, the shade exact to the color of the one to his crow outfit. He was dressed in his school uniform, though it looked more like his body was stuffed into it. The shadow’s ruby mask was etched with a permanent form of his TV smile, though his golden eyes were dull and glassy; a sharp contrast to his normally bubbly and warm detective prince persona.

Stiff and plastic, not unlike his real self, Shadow Akechi eventually managed to pull himself away from the hoard of adoring fans, slipping quietly into a dark alleyway. He was out of sight for a short spell, as the thieves pursued like bloodhounds. Ducking down the ally Akechi had made his escape in, Joker noticed craps of white and brown cloth, black cloth, a leather glove, and fark colored feathers that almost vanished into the pitch-black shadows. Eventually, they found Akechi, tearing the last of his shirt from his body. 

Only the mask remained.

Palace rulers always looked very similar to their real selves, to the point that only the golden eyes and odd outfits could give them away. With Akechi’s shadow, it was easy to tell he wasn’t the real person. Shadow Akechi was glad in fathers black and midnight blue in color, nails replaced by dark purple talons designed to rip soft flesh to ribbons. His back was facing them, allowing them to see quite clearly the set of dark wings stretching out from his shoulders. Perhaps feeling their eyes on him, the shadow turned to face them. The moment he was facing them, Akechi’s shadow removed his mask. It burst into blue fire, ceasing to exist. Thick black lines, like tear tracks, marked pale skin as golden orbs bore into them.

“Oh, so you’ve actually noticed,” The palace ruler said, voice only slightly distorted at the edges, almost unnoticeable.

The shadow before them was more monster than man, a sight that screamed about how distorted Akechi’s self-perception was. And this was the shadow in its neutral state, unhindered by any sense of danger. Did Akechi really see himself as a monster?

“…You’re alive, you’ve more likes than that black cat at your side.” Shadow Akechi continued, finally noticing Joker’s presence. Mona bristled at being called a cat.“You might as well leave, there isn’t any point to you being here,”

“Like hell we’ll leave!” Skull snarled. “We’re here to steal whatever treasure you’re hidin’!”

Shadow Akechi’s lips were pressed into a thin line. “Steal my heart? As if!” He scoffed. “I’ve come too far to let things end here, the election is only a month away. It will be by my hand that the king falls!”

“King? But aren’t you the master of his kingdom?” Queen asked, puzzled as the rest of them.

“Master? I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about. I am referring to the man egotistical enough to see himself above the law, and ruthless enough to kill for his crown.” 

“You’re referring to Shido? Why do you talk of sabotaging the very man you follow so faithfully?” Fox demanded.

Akechi snarled at Fox’s words. “Faithful? Don’t make me laugh, my only goal is to drag that man down to hell with me. I might have been weak enough to let that man manipulate me, but I will have my vengeance!”

With those words of promise, Akechi lifted a taloned hand to glance down at the glowing screen of his phone. Golden eyes rose to look at them once more. Powerful wings beat in tandem, catching air as dust and tattered rags were scattered. Shadow Akechi took flight, dark body dissolving into the black of the night sky.

“Oh come on!” Skull snapped.

Oracle took at as her cue to summon Necronomicon and guide them after Akechi. The night was far from over, and the number of questions only seemed to multiply by the minute.


	4. Bewildering Unknown

Because of how most buildings where towering skyscrapers, Akechi’s shadow was forced to twist and weave around the towering structures of glass and concrete, much like how his pursuers were forced to do on the ground. Only a pale, wispy moon worn away into a thin crescent offered any light in the dark back allies winding and twisting like snakes, the street lights and illuminated signs of the main roads didn’t reach as far back. Because of the dark coloring, without Oracle's superb tracking and navigation abilities, the thieves would have lost track of shadow Akechi a long time ago, his dark form practically indiscernible from the night sky. That, and flying seemed to allow him to move much faster than them.

“Up ahead! Akechi just dropped to the ground!” Oricle informed them. 

A few more sharp turns later, and the unmistakable sound of someone hollering in pure terror for help. The sounds bounced back and forth across the brink and concrete, dulled only by the pounding of their footfalls on the ground. The screaming added an extra push to their already sprinting pace, spurring them forward with an extra boost of desperation. The scream was cut off abruptly, swollowed by a pop that in any other instant, might be humorous. 

The sight that had the Phantoms grinding to a fault was a grim one; shadow Akechi with a smoking, silenced gun in one hand, standing over the collapsed form of some unknown stranger. Though it was only a cognition, the sense displayed just how merciless Akechi was, if he was this unflinching when executing others’ shadows. Akechi hadn’t noticed them, yet, the brunette locked in some stalemate with the corps, or perhaps just lost in thought, his golden irises glared listlessly down at the terrified expression of his victim.

Joker opened his mouth to say something, but the words dried upon his lips. Murmuring. It was quiet, but the sound was unmistakable; many, many voices all murmuring together. He’d noticed the quiet white noise earlier, when they’d first confronted the supposed palace ruler. The murmuring was too quiet, and the voices to numerous to decern what each individual was saying.

Akechi’s grip on his firearm slackened, the gun slipped gracelessly from his talons and clattered against the uneven ground. The moment the gun hit the ground, the murmuring exploded into a cacophony of shouing, roaring voices. In his ear, he heard Oracle whimper, their navigator all too familiar with clamoring, jeering voices. Unlike the voice they’d heard in Oracle's tomb, where each one took their turn shouting their eery jeer, repeating until they passed, these voices were all shouting and screaming together, making them bleed together, many words becoming undiscernable from the rest.

Shadow Akechi had dropped to his knees the moment the infernal din had started, talons pressed over his ears to try and mute the voices. If the pained, tortured look on his face was any indication, the action didn’t do a damn thing to soften the noise. A few voices, the loudest of them, didn’t devolve into a din of white noise.

“If only you hadn’t been born, you cursed brat! Why couldn’t you have just died from a fever or something!” A woman’s voice screached.

“You’re a parasite,- all you unwanted brats are! You just take and take and take! Stop fucking crying already- you don’t deserve to be unhappy considering I’ve been benevolent enough to take you – in!” another woman shouted.

“Scream and cry all you like, no one’s gonna save trash like you. So just be a good boy and pay your dues, I’m wasting a lot of money on an unwanted orphan like you, so it’s only fair I get something in return.” A man’s voice scoffed.

“I have no need for brants who can’t do what they’re asked of- if you can’t get the job done, then there isn’t any need for you.” A voice that was unmistakeably Masayoshi Shido sneered.

It was very likely, all the other numerous voices were screaming and shouting about similar things. Akechi had admitted to being an orphan, passed around by an overworked, underfunded foster system, but just what kind of childhood had the brunette endured? 

Eventually, the screaming subsided back into the quiet murmuring, the voices and their jeers never quite out of mind. Akechi was left a shivering ball of feathers and anxiety, tears of blood dribbling down his cheeks and he tugged at his brown hair. The face of the man he’d murdered earlier and morphed from terror into an accusing snarl.

“Wh—what the eff was that?” Skull asked, as at a loss for words as the rest of them.

Stumbling back up, feathers still fluffed out in stress and body still shaking over so slightly. Shadow Akechi used the heels of his arms to scrub away congealing bloody tears, lips pulled into a grimace. He lifted his phone once more to look at what was on the glowing screen, face falling into a designed frow and he returned the device to its place and spread his wings once more.

“…Your presence isn’t needed here, stay out of my way,” He warned them, taking flight once more.

This time, the theives did not pursure him, too shaken by the glimpse of his inner torment to do much else than stand there.

“…I… I think we should end it here for now,” Queen advised, one elbow gripped tight in the opposite hand.

Oracle was silent, likely still recovering from the shouting, something she herself suffered from not too long ago. Panther had her arms wrapped tight around herself, Fox was nervously thumbing at the hilt of his katana. Skull was scuffing the toe of his boot into a chip in the ground, Noir was looking anywhere but where Akechi once stood.

“…Yes, let’s return to the real world, we can continue investigating another time,” Joker ordered.

Just as Mona had warned them, this would not be an easy distortion to traverse. Maybe they’d get lucky and those hellish jeers were the worst they had to deal with, but the thought was unlikely. It was hard to believe voices alone were all there was to this distortion, now when the palace ruler himself was of a monstrous form, and implied that someone else ruled this kingdom.

The voices transformed from their quiet whispering into the monstrous din just as the door to his small, one-room apartment clicked shut behind him. Distantly, he heard his briefcase clattered to the ground, slipping from his slackening grip. Stumbling to lean against the nearest wall, Akechi felt himself whimper as voices from his past creamed at him. Most of them blurred together, their voices getting mixed into a static background for the loudest of them. This time it was his mother, Shido, and two different foster parents hurling their abuse at him.

His mother’s voice, loud and sharp like broken glass, was always there, always one of the loudest voices shouting at him. He felt his body shake, trembling under the pressure of mental anguish as tears burned at his eyes. No matter how hard his leather-clad hands pressed against his ears, the sound remained a deafening roar. This wasn’t the first time he’d endured the shouting, and it wouldn’t be the last until his mission was over.

Eventually, after an indiscernible amount of time, the voices in his head receded back into murmuring, all of them bleeding together to create a soft white noise that never left. The detective remained in his huddled state, pulse a jackhammer in his ears and his breaking worked to even out from the ragged gasps they currently were. When his heart evened out, and his breaking cooled to quiet sobs, Akechi heaved himself back up, leaving his briefcase in the entryway. He was too tired to pick up the metal case.  
Shoes still on, he dragged his limp form through the living room and into the sole bedroom, hurling himself onto the small mattress and untouched sheets. He kicked his shoes off, the only thing he had the energy to do, before curling back up into a ball, cocooning himself in a thin blanket. 

Weariness clawed at the edges of his awareness, but every time he nodded off into a light sleep, he was dropped into a sea of night terrors, awakening him with a sharp yelp or quiet cry. Insomnia was a familiar companion, he could no longer recall a time when it wasn't by his side, when his unconscious was a childish dreamland. Had there ever been a time when he’d slept soundly, untormented by nightmares?


	5. Monster Hunters of Heart

With nothing else to do, and a good chunk of time to kill, Akira, Futaba, and Morgana entered Akechi’s palace. It would be an exploration only run, with the intent to leave soon after, to give the trio enough time to recover before re-entering the palace with the rest of the thieves. This time, the entered outside of Leblanc, a precaution. The true Akechi might not be aware that Akira was alive, but his shadow was well aware his supposed target was very much alive and well, no one was sure how that would affect his cognition, or the palace as a whole.

Despite it being a sunny November day in the real world, it was a cool night in the palace. The wispy moon, having shifted from a crescent to a half, remained at its peak, thin moonlight trickling down, washed away in the main streets by the harsh glare of neon and the like. 

“Joker, I’m picking up strong readings!” Oracle warned almost immediately after entering the palace.

A quick peek inside the café informed them of how wise their decision to enter outside was. Peering in through the semi-foggy glass of Leblanc, cognitive interpretations of the phantom thieves sat inside, drinking coffee and the like with cheer. A cognitive version of Akira, smirking as proudly as he did as Joker, sat at the head of this little event. 

At the bar, Makoto, Futaba, Haru, and Ryuji sat, Makoto and Hauro sipping leisurely at their coffee, Futaba, seated in between the older girls, was downing a mug of hot chocolate, Ryuji had a glass of soda teetering in one hand. Standing close to the stairs, Akira didn’t have anything in hand, but right next to him, Morgana (looking the way he does in the metaverse) was nursing a cup of something. Ann and Yusuke were seated at a booth, the table itself hidden from view.

Their cognitive doubles sitting lively inside of Leblanc were not dressed as thieves, or even as their real-world selves. These ‘thieves’ for their weapons openly; Akira’s knives and gun strapped to his thighs, Makoto’s gun holstered under one arm, her bladed knuckles resting on the bar counter. Ryuji and Haru’s weapons were propped up against the barstools they occupied.

Cognative Akira wore the same long black trench coat that Joker was wearing now, the one that was a part of his metaverse outfit, but like the other theives, he did not have a mask. His shirt was a dark charcoal, of the long sleve veriety, and his pants were a dark grey, made of some tough and durable material, across his lips, a pair of belts with numeruous pouches all stuffed to the brim. Cognative Morgana looked that same as Mona, nothing of note there. A black blazer was draved over the back of Makoto’s seat, she was dressed in a dark blue sweater, she two wore double puched belts, but unlike her leader, these were not as full. Futaba was pressed in a large cuat that dwarfed her fraim, a black shirt with neon green acents that hung lim of her petiti fraom, and dark coal cargo pants, snaks and other odd ends poking out from bulging pockets. Haru was dressed in a sleek light gray coat, the high collar of a dark purple turtle neck peeking out, and ink black dress pants, a dark fedora wath a small feather resting on her lap. Ryuji looked uncanaly similar to Skull’s outfit, jut not all glossy and without the mettal spine plate. From what he could see of Ann and Yusuke, the former was wearing a thinn straped tank top and ruby red coat, and the latter was in some kind of a suit. Of everyone he could see, all of them, sans Morgana, wore worn combat boots.

“Oracle, can you listen in on their conversation?” Mona hissed.

“I thought you’d never ask,” She replied with a smirk.

With only a few clicks of her holographic keyboard, the yougng navi had them listening in on the group.

“Great to have ya’ back, leader!” Ryuji. “See any hot chicks at the station?”

“Unless middle aged detective beating me within an inch of my life counts, then no,” Akira replied with a mute chuckle.

“Well, we’re all happy to have you back, it means the plan was a success.” Haru hummed.

“Wait, but Akechi didn’t know about the ol’ switcheroo,” Oracle muttered.

“No, but Akechi knows we had some form of a plan to save him, if Joker’s alive and able to infiltrate palaces.” Mona reminded.

“Oooh, right,”

“Now that we’re all here, we can proceed with that plan,” Makoto said.

“Makoto’s right, without leader here, we should start hammering out the finer details of dealing with Akechi,” Yusuke agreed.

“Aww, do we have ta’?” Ryuji groaned.

“Shut it Ryuji, we can’t just leave a monster like that to run free!” Ann chided. “Especially not one that the King controls.”

“Lady Ann is right,” Morgana agreed. “If we end Akechi, the king will lose his most powerful pawn, and make dethroning him all the easier.”

“Alright then, Monster Hunters of Heart,” Akira spoke up, getting everyone’s attention. “If everyone is ready, lets perfect out plan in ending Akechi Goro, and taking down King Shido Masayoshi.”

Monster hunters aiming to dethrone a king and kill his pet monster. That was how Akechi perceived the Phantom Thieves. It wasn’t exactly off, considering they themselves were planning on stealing his heart, and then steal Shido’s heart. Another thing of note, Akechi perceived Shido as the king of this palace. It was odd, up until now, the palace rulers perceived themselves as the highest position of their distortion, and human to boot (Kaneshiro and Okumera’s odd skin colores didn’t change how human they looked). 

“Hmm, so reasoning with Akechi will be ney impossible,” Mona muttered. “well, it’s a good thing we planned for that, but it’s clear he sees us as a threat.”

Monster hunters… Did Akechi perceive the change of heart as killing a monster? All of the people they’d changed up until now had turned into monstrous creatures fighting to keep their treasures safe, but it wasn’t as if they killed people.

None of that mattered at the moment. The three of them were here to scope out potential places for the treasure to reside, and see what kind of shadows they were dealing with. Seeing just how distorted Akechi’s cognition was would happen as they explored, weather they wanted to see the nightmares beneath the surface or not.


	6. Kingdom's Palace

The police shadows out on the streets were easy enough to avoid; even if they saw the thieves, they didn’t register them as dangerous unless provoked. These shadows kept to the main streets, standing still and vigilant, like stone gargoyles peering over church roofs. Sneaking up on them was easy, but the shadow monsters they divided into were not so easy. Bishamonten and Koumokutan glowered down at them, sturn faces scrunched up in disapproval. Both were shadows weak to ice attacks, and joker – with his many different personas- was well equipped to deal with them, but even abusing their weaknesses the shadow pair were not easy to beat. Their levels were high, even higher than those wandering the early corridors of Shido's palace, and with only Mona at his side to help fight back, the fight was long and drawn out, even with keeping the enemies in a near-constant cycle of being knocked down.

Defeating a single shadow did not alarm the others. Even when he initiated a fight in front of another, that shadow remained in it’s spot, uncaring of what happened to its brethren. In the entire time the trio had spent in Akechi’s palace, the security level hadn’t risen even once, remain at a blue 0 even when locking eyes with the sentinal shadows. Wandering about in the lightless back allies, shadowy yakuza occasionally roamed. Unlike their police counterparts, these ones were nearly always on the move, but just like their more lawful counterparts, they did not consider the thieves a threat unless proven otherwise. 

“The shadows here are really weird,” Oracle commented. “Akechi saw us as a threat from the start, but with how low the security level still is, despite clearly not being sneaky around anything, ti as if we aren't considered a danger.”

“Hmm, it is strange, the way the palace ruler and those cognitions of us act, and the contradictory action of the shadows and palace itself.” Mona agreed. 

“…Unless,” Joker found himself murmuring under his breath. Akechi, who’d worked with them in trying to steal Sae Nijima’s treasure for nearly a month, being told everything about palaces and their rulers, and how cognition affected the contents inside, all of it was too contradictory, even for someone like him, unless there was a reason for that.

“Something come to mind, Joker?” Oricle inquired.

“Maybe, think you can lead us to where the diet building is? It has to be an important place in this distortion, and seeing how the shadows are around it should answer my suspicions,” He replied.

“On it, just follow me.” You could practically hear the grin in her voice. 

Following back alley roads to avoid the chaos and crowds of the main streets, Joker and Mona, under the guidance of Oracle up high in Necronomicon made their way towards the national diet building. As if confirming his hypothesis, the closer they got to the diet, the more aggravated and numerous the yakuza shadows were, no longer ignoring the pair at a glance. Staying in the shadows of an ally, they arrived at their destination.

To fit the distortion of a kingdom, the diet building had been replaced with a literal palace. From just looking at it, the building did resemble the true palace where the emperor of Japan resided, but this one seemed to have twist of modern architecture thrown in. Influencial people milled about, tides of bodies ebbing and flowing in and out of the building. A heavy concentration of shadows stood on alert at the main gaits and other prime observation locations, hard eyes scaning the sea of faces for any signs of danger.

“Just as I thought, the shadows are only a threat when there’s something to guard.” Joker mused quietly.

“…I hate to admit it, but at least this isn’t overly gaudy,” Oracle grunted.

Unlike the castles and museums and banks of yore, the diet-palace was extremely tasteful; the architecture a bold mix of modern and traditional that didn’t stand out simply to be eye catching. Joker venomously believed that this was wholly due to Akechi’s sence of aesthetics (he had seen Shido’s ‘ark’, and all the dripping finery and luxury, there was no way a man like that could envision something so bold yet down to earth).

“Nice architecture aside, I don’t think we’ll just be able to walk in through the front door,” Mona pointed out.

A quick glance at shadow locations proved the felines point in spades. The shadow would spot them long before even their small group managed to get close to the front gates. Ducking through more side roads, observing the perimeter of the palace, the entire palace grounds were speckled with strong shadows all standing in prime spots to see aproching intruders long before they got close. They would likely have to find an underground rout of some kind to get in.

“Let’s pull back for now, and see if we can’t find any other important places,” Oracle advised. “We aren’t sure yet if the treasure's here or elsewhere, we can explore high-security places once everyone’s done with school.

He wasn’t normally the kind of person with submitting to nostalgia so easily, but for some inexplicable reason, Akechi found himself looking at his phone several times that day. More specifically, it was a series of photos carfully hidden deep within his gallery. They were photos taken a week before the change of Sae’s heart, and his own betrayal. It was nothing big; just a small celebration after a particularly good jaunt through mementos (they’d managed to take down a reaper with their own powers). He’d snapped a few photos of the ocation on a whim, all of them contained Kurusu.

If he were to be completely honest with himself, he never wanted to kill the black haired youth. He’d genuinly enjoyed his battle of whits with the younger male, and had even found an odd sence of comfort in the boy’s company.

The night before the heist, in a moment of hesitation, Akechi had contemplated coming clean to the phantom theives, and having them help target Shido instead. He’d promptly discarded the idea. After nearly 2 and a half years of doing this himself, and being so close to victory, he was doing just fine solo. Besides, he didn’t wish to drag the theives intohis mess more than he had to. Shido was his rotten father, there was no need to concern anyone else with matters he could deal with.

Beyond that issue, the theives were weak. The shadows that roamed Shido’s ‘Ark’ (how utterly egotistical to call THAT gaudy abomination an ark of all things) were very strong, much, much stronger than what Sae’s palace housed. The phantom theives would be of little use to him in there. No, working alone was for the best, and he was too close not to stop.

Ignoring how his heart bleed, and something inside of him cried out, Akechi resolved himself to kill that who he cherished most. He’d be dead soon enough anyhow, and rotting in hell as his father’s world crimbled around him.


	7. The Lonely Tower

They wandered around the palace a little longer, seeking out other high-security places by checking any building and areas important to the detective. The TV station had a few guards, but they were the same as the ones positioned on the main streets; uncaring as long as they were left alone. The police station and prosecutor’s officer were similarly unguarded; they were literally able to walk through the front doors undisturbed. 

Inside the prosecutor’s office, they found a cognition of Sae Nijima, dressed in that dark suit of hers. Though, unlike the real Nijima-san, this one had her suit blazer off and draped over a chair, her dress shirt’s sleeves rolled up past the elbows. Her cream colored skin was painted with a colorful array of inks, all thickly lined with a deep black. Her eyeliner, though less ‘extravagant’ than her shadow’s, was a tad more boal than what the actual woman did. It seems Akechi’s perspective of the woman had been shaped by her shadow, her ‘true self’, giving rise to a mob-boss esk prosecutor barking orders at her subordinates as she marched about with pride and authority.

The fact that one of said subordinates called her “proxy SIU Director” told the tro just how highly regarded Sae was to Akechi. He truly did respect her, and her leadership, even after her near spiral into lawless abuse of laws meant to protect the innocent. Though, much of that was due to outside pressure and mental manipulation, that Akechi had been more than aware of.

“Leblanc’s left unguarded, and I can’t think of any more places Akechi might deem important,” Mona sighed.

Joker was in a similar state of dejection. He was wracking his brain for any other potential locations, mulling over and scrutinizing every memroy he had of speanding time with the older boy, but everything was coming up blank. Except for one thing, but after seeing how unguarded the TV station and prosecutor’s office were, it seemed like streach.

“Oracle, do you know where Akechi’s apartment is?” He asked.

“Yeah, give me a sec and I’ll guide you there,” She replied.

He answered Mona’s questioning look with a shrug. “I’m not sure if it will be guarded, but it’s where he lives, it might hold some clues we can use.” It was their only other option besides wandering around the dystopian Tokyo at random.

Dystopia… it truly described the state of the palace. The tired, plain faced people wandering tue and from work, all packed into neat rows like soldiers marching to their death, the masked shadows watching everyone, making sure everything was as it should. The towering skyscrapers that made up most of the buildings, and the despairing lack of green foliage. Whether this Kingdom was how Akechi viewed the world at present, or a world ruled by Shido, had yet to be seen, but the dour and grim state of this palace made it quite clear the detective didn’t have a posative outlook on the wrold.

“Alright, this should be the quickest route to Akechi’s apartment,” Oracle informed them.

Ducking ans weaving through barely lit back roads and lifeless allys once more, the pair let their dutiful navigator guide them to a place that would hopefully if not be an acual step in the right direction of the reasure, would give them a soarly needed clue. What would the detective treasure even look like? So far, the theives as a whole were still unsure as to the nature of Akechi’s distortion, whether it was born from wordly desired gone wrong like the vile adults they’d dealt with, or from pan built up to a boaling point like Futaba.

So far, Joker was guessing it was the latter, if only because that fact that Shadow Akechi was a monster, meaning that the real Akechi no longer perceived himself as human. None of the other shadoes had been so self distorted as to be anything other than human, not even Futaba had been that far gone. There was also the fact that Shadow Akechi pretend to be human, body shoved akwardly into clothes not ment for his beastly body, and marked face hidden behind a ruby mask of cheer and charisma. Is that how he percived his detective prince facad?

Before the phantom theives leader could get too far lost in his thought, Oracle’s voice chimed in their ears that they had arrived.

The detective's dwelling was, certainly not what they were expecting- at all. He had mentioned in passing once, after a group meating in the middle of November, that he lived in an apartment complex. Some digging on Futaba’s end revealed what kind of place this apartment was; a cheap multy floored building that was on the cheaper end of the rent spectrum, the flat Akechi had was a one-room on the second floor.

The building that were staring at now was nothing like that. The black stone tower was a drastic divergence from the towering skyscrapers around it; probably only about 4 stories or so and built of black stone instead of brick or pale concrete. The body of the spire of smooth and cylindital, the body of it undecorated with windows of any visible openings. The top was another cylindrical structure, this time with what looked like windows, with a jutting pointed cone roof. Up cluse, the indicual bucks of onyx color stone melded together almost seemlesly, even to the touch, Each brink fit together prefectly, like a series of jigsaw pieces, no tony crevices or empty spaces between each that had to be filled with mortar.

He could practically hear Fox waxing prais on the simple yet elegant acitecture of the tower, honeyed words dripping from his lips, as sweet and refined as fine wine. The artist would probably attempt to draw the stucture a bit, maybe even the palace too, if they let him. 

“So, this is how Akechi perceives him home…?” Mona murmured.

So, not even home was a safe place. It was a lonely tower in which a monster slept. Joker was well acquainted wh the saying ‘home is where the heart is’, but not even his heart could picture a home. Had the concept long become forign to him, after so many years passed around by the foster care system?

“This place, it’s resonating with an odd energy, and the shadows are completely avoiding this area.” Oracle informed them. “I think this place holds some importance to Akechi, but maybe we should wait untill we have the others to explore.”

“…We’ve done more than enough resonances for today, let’s head back and rest until we have the others, and properly explore this place.” Joker said.

There was something about this place that tried to encapture Jokers attention, his eyes kept staying up to the room at the top of the tower. What secret was nestled up there, the the dower place Akechi lived, but never considered a home? Was it a well guarded secret that they would have to fight Shadow Akechi for the right to uncover? Or was it something he just wanted tucked away, out of sight and mind?


	8. Second Dive

The moment everyone is back in the real world, the spent trio march up the stairs to Leblanc’s attic room. Despite only about an hour having passed in the real world, the trip itself felt like at least 2, maybe more. And, like any excursion into the metaverse, they were exhausted. Futaba was the first to conk out, belly-flopping face-first onto Akira’s makeshift bed and promptly passing out. Morgana meowled his grievances, trying to rouse the girl by prodding at her head.

“Don’t fall asleep just yet! You’ve still got your shoes and glasses on!” The black feline scolded.

Morgana was quickly shut bu when Futaba snatched him up and proply turned into a cuddle monster, nose nestling into the soft fluff of the feline’s chest with a content sigh. Akira snorted his companion’s predicament, but made no move to free the black cat of his snuggle prison. Instead, the ravenette removed his shoes and got comfortable on the lumpy couch for his own cat nap. Everyone present was tired, traversing the metaverse did that to people- persona users or not. If they wanted to be back in top condition by the time of their second foyer into Akechi’s palace, they needed sleep.

“So far, we have to places of interest, the diet building turned palace, and the black tower where Akechi’s apartment is,” Morgana informed the rest of their party. “The most likely place for the treasure to been is likely the diet building, considering all the security, but considering that almost everything about Akechi’s palace deviates from the norm, we can’t be too sure."

It was imidiatly after school had officially let out for the day, everyone was now present in Akira’s attic dwelling. He, Morgana, and Futaba were in the middle of bringing the other 5 members of the thieves up to speed on what they’d learned that morning.

“Hmm, I suppose it shouldn’t be surprising that the diet building is an important place in Akechi’s mind, considering his ties with Shido.” Makoto mused.

“Well, wherever the treasure is, we’ll steal it no problem!” Ryuji boasted.

“So, what kind of dangers are we to expect in the depths of Akichi-kun psyche?” Yusuke asked.

“The shadows in Akechi’s palace are weird- their very powerful, but unlike how they acted in other palaces, these ones seem to leave you alone as long as you aren’t doing anything to get their attention. And even when you do, it doesn’t rais the palace security.” Futaba explained. “Though, the closer we got to the diet building, the more agitated and vigilant the shadows became, and the higher security seemed to be.”

“It was the exact opposite with the tower- the closer we got to it, the few shadows there were,” Akira added.

“Even though it’s how Akechi perceives his own home? He cares that little for it?” Haru gasped.

Home. Home was considered a place of safety and warmth. Nothing about the black tower felt safe or warm.

“I dunno, the way they described that tower, it doesn’t sound like much of a home to me.” Ann pointed out. “Isn’t a home supposed to be like a sanctuary; a place you feel safe in. That seems like the exact opposite of what the tower seems to represent.”

“I thought so too,” Akiro agreed. “the top of the tower seemed more like a dwelling- a place to sleep whenever the chance occurs. I don’t think Akechi perceives his apartment as anything more than a place he just lives at.”

“That, just sounds so, sad.” Haru murmured in lamentation.

Haru’s words made even Ryuji and Ann look dower.

“Well, regardless of what the tower represents, we should likely search it first, it will likely not be easy to get into the diet building, but there might be a clue in the tower as to an alternative rout inside.” Yusuke pointed out.

“Yes, and maybe we should confront Akechi’s shadow again, this one’s honestly might allow us to get some answers, or find hints as to the treasure’s location.” Makoto agreed.

“Alright then!” Ryuji said. “Let’s charge in!”

“Considering the size and nature of the palace, where should we enter in from?” Haru asked.

“Leblanc,” Futaba replied. “During our exploration this morning, I noticed that like with the tower, there’s an area around the café that shadows don’t enter into. I propose we enter from outside the café, in case our doppelgangers are inside again.”

“Good idea, we should treat our cognative doubles as potential foes.” Morgana agreed.

“Oh right, you did mention Akechi havin’ cognitions of us,” Ryji recalled. “So, what where we like?”

“The palace’s representation of us are monster hunters, whos next target is Akechi himself,” Akira told them. “when we saw them, they were celebrating my return,”

“They will most likely fight in a similar manner to us, considering Akechi did fight along side us for almost a month, and was able to see first hand our tactics and fighting styles.”

If the rest of them understood the significance of the monster hunters of heart’s existence, no one mentioned it. Akira chose to keep quiet about it, it wasn’t something he was ready to talk about just yet. He was still curious as to how he was alive in the palace. Even if it was shadow Akechi who saw him, the real one saw his die. By all rights, the true Akechi’s perception should reigh supreme as the law of the land, so why was his cognitive double alive once more?

It was a question he had a feeling would be answered in this outing, wheather he was prepared for the explanation or not.


	9. A House isn't always a Home

That morning, the moon high in the sky had been a barely visible waxing crescent, now it was full and bright. In the confines of the palace, it was always night and the moon was frozen at its peak, only the shifting of its faces gave the illusion of time passing. Against a starless backdrop of the darkest pitch, the moon was just a blip of white. Yongen-Jaya was it’s usual quiet self, unlike in the real world, there was no buzzing undertone of dogs parking and people murmuring amongst themselves.

Leblanc was the only thing true to its real-world self. Peaking through the window quickly, the interior was empty sans Sojiro as usual. It seemed the monster hunters were out at the moment, talking requests perhaps? It didn’t matter too much what their cognitive doubles were up too, so long as both parties didn’t cross paths in the worst way possible. 

The station was a short walk away, and as Oracle had said, the shadows never got within a certain radius of Leblanc, creating a safe zone of sorts. The subway was crammed to the brim with grim-faced and world-weary people dressed in drab grays and off whites. It was a tide of salary worker either heading out to work or returning home. 

Their first destination was the diet building. Peering out of thick pools of darkness, the phantom thieves watched as throngs of politicians ebbed in and out of the grandiose building under the scrutiny of the many, many shadows standing guard. Guards patrolled the perimeter in simple paths that allowed one shadow to be in sight of several others. If one of the thieves were to even dare attempt sneaking up on a guard, they’d be spotted by others quicky. The perimeter of the diet was well lit by high voltage floodlights with very little else to act as cover. Sneaking in from street level was looking impossible.

“Damn, the security detail here is unreal.” Skull huffed in annoyance

“Yeah, I don’t think we’d be able to sneak in as rats,” Panther grumbled in agreement. “and here I thought Shido’s door was looking annoying.”

“There isn’t anything we can do about it, for now, let’s take a look at the tower,” Queen conceded with a sigh.

The trip to Akechi’s tower was short, quiet, and wholely uneventful. The dark spire was a lonely, depressing sight against a backdrop of buildings that towered impossibly high overhead. Fingers brushing against the fitted slabs of dark stone that made up the body of the tower, a crushing sense of loneliness settled over him. Was this how the apartment felt to Akechi? A lonely place to hide away from the world, never feeling like a home?

“What a wondrous sight! An elegant yet simple design, fitted to a perfect ratio! The lonely aura of this placed melding with the dystopian aesthetics of the palace!” Fox babbled, losing himself in his artists speak. By now, everyone had their own way of tune out their excentric member's dissociation from the world.

Man, can this be any more depressing?” Skull muttered.

Joker ignored it in favor of zeroing in ion the door. The black grain of the wood almost melded in with the dark stone. Steeling his nerves with baited breat, Joker grabbed the black iron handle and shoved the heavy wooden door open. The hinges, as though properly oils and taken care of, didn’t so much a peep as the door’s own weight have it momentum.

Inside the tower were two things of notice. One was a long staircase leading up to the room at the top. The other was a dark pit resting off to the side, impossibly black and stretched open like the maw of a cave. The heels of his shoes echo with each step as Joker drew closer to the yawning pit. The darkness of the pit twisted and writhed about as if alive, tempting him to drip into its depths. What horrors did this dark pit lead to?

“I can’t see what’s down there,” Oracle piped in. “all I’m getting from that pi is bad vibes and a lot of static.”

So, they would be going in blind. It wasn’t the first time, the first three palaces were traversed practically blind. But they’d all grown used to having their navigator at least give them a hint of what to expect, now, they had nothing. Turning his gaze to the stairs, there were two options at the moment; up or down.

“Let’s check out the top first, we might find something important up there,” Joker commanded.

A tense silence settled over them as they ascended the spiraling black staircase, only the thin moonlight from outside kept them from having to walk in the dark. The entire journey up was uneventful, not even so much as a loose step to slow their progress. 

The top opened up into a small one-room sized apartment, the floor was dark wood, and the walls a clean plaster white. There was no layer of dust to signify the dwelling was abandoned or otherwise empty, but everything was clean and baron. The walls were bae of any kind of photos, the shelves lined with thick textbooks and the occasional mystery novel, the coffee table was empty of even mug coasters. The lack of trinkets and other decorations left everything feeling empty and impersonal. It didn’t at all give the impression that a teenager lived here, alone or otherwise.

In the sink was a lonely ceramic mug, white. All other dishes, all a boorish porcelain white, and eating utensils were put away. Pots and pans were tucked away, lacking the nicks and bumps that came from regular use. The fridge was empty have for a small, mostly full pint of milk and a take out container.

“…I never could believe someone could live his way, not until now,” Noir said, violet glove brushing over book spines.

“Yeah, it’s one thing to prefer not having a cluttered living space, but this is something else entirely,” Panther muttered.

Gravitating out of the kitchen, the bathroom was in a similar state of used, but not very lived in. A generic blue toothbrush sat inside a chipped glass tucked away in a corner. The medicine cabinet was just about empty, a bottle of aspirin and some cough syrup the only things inside. Hidden away in a draw were several containers of foundation and concealer, all in Akechi’s skin tone. It might have been amusing, the media Akechi Goro needing to touch himself up to look pretty, but he remembered the near-constant tired look in the detective’s eyes, and wondered what might be hidden just out of sight.

A closed door remained. Lifting a crimson gloved hand to the knob, he found it locked. It was very likely the bedroom, considering the layout of the apartment, and what they’d already seen. Pulling a lock pick from their supplies, Joker drop to the floor and begand working on the lock. So far, there was no indication the door was unopenable- it wasn't sealed tight and both the knob and lock were there. After a bit of tinkering, he heard the soft telltale click of an opening lock.

Clearly the detecive perseived this door as openable, weather because of realism, pecamissm, of because the door wasn’t hiding anything he deemed important. Pushing the door open, Joker was prepared to find an impersonal bedroom, maybe with some emberasing sheets or perhaps a diary of some kind.

A corps was not one of those things.


	10. Schrodinger's Akira

The bedroom itself was a sharp divergence from the rest of the apartment; the tower’s black stone making up the walls, the floor, even the ceiling. Pressed up into a corner was a dest, the surface covered in tidy stacks of papers. The dresser was placed right next to the closet, and was the only other bit of furniture in the room. Besides the bed.

The bed, a large king-sized feature with a canopy, sat in the center of the room, almost like a shrine or altar. Joker was positive it wasn't the same bed as in the real world, or even the same placement, it was just, too personal and characterized for this cold dwelling. Resting on top of immaculate white sheets and a red blanket, the body of Cognitive Joker lay. If not for the stillness of his chest and the yawning bullet hole peeking out from ebony bangs, it might have been possible to belive the cognition was simply sleeping.

“Oi’ Joker, you find anything scandalous in Akechi’s room?” Skull asked with an impish grin.

The blond didn’t bother waiting for an answer and peered over his leader’s shoulder to see inside. “What the effing hell?!” The blond screeched. Joker winced and brought a hand to the desecrated ear. Skull really needed to learn volume control, or at least how to not just scream into a guy’s ear point-blank. The loud commotion drew the attention of the other thieves, unsurprisingly.

Sighing, Joker waltzed into the bedroom and made his way directly to his own corpse, the one existing in Akechi’s mind. Just that morning he’d seen his cognitive self alive and well, even heard the other speak, so why was he here, dead? Perhaps things weren't so divergent from what could be considered a palace’s norm after all. He could feel his friends’ eyes on him as he brought a gloved hand up to brush aside strands of black hair. The bullet hole sat in the center of the cognition’s forehead, the edges signed into a burn black, the killing shot having been made from point-blank.

It lined up with what would happen should Akechi have actually shot him that evening. Was this the same Joker from this morning? Before he could ponder that line of thinking further, the hole in the cognition’s forehead closed shut, flesh flooding in like putty. Quicksilver grey eyes snapped open as the cognition rose from his resting place. Joker took a few startled steps back, the cognition swung his legs over the edge of the bed into a sitting position, then stood up without a sound. The previously dead cognition didn’t even so much a spare them a parting glance as he shoved past them.

“What in the world, wasn't he dead just a moment ago?” Haru gasped.

“This is a palace- regular rules of life and death don’t apply here, especially to cognitions.” Mone reminded them.

“Enough talking, if we don’t follow now, we’ll lose him!” Queen barked.

Pouring over unfinished school work, Akechi rested his head against one hand as his gaze shifted from textbook to worksheet and back again. He was taking a break from casework, a purposeful one to get the few accumulating assignments done now, so they didn’t pile up and negatively affect his immaculate grades. None of it was hard- he’d done harder in collage level text, and would likely be done with the material before the hour was finished. Pencil scratching softly aganst the paper’s surface, in neat handwriting the algebraic expresion fell open like a flower.

Was there any point in getting good grades if he wasn't planning on attending college? Probably not, but he had a reputation to uphold. And even if his plan was to fade away into obscurity and vanish from the public for good after this was all over, Akechi Gro was nothing less than a perfectionist. It was never a good idea to get sloppy in the home stretch, even if he plan was all but assured to go as desired. He just finished the last math equation, all that was left was an English assignment from last week. Placing his pencil down, Akechi reached for the last assignment when he potted his gloved hand beguining to shake. Recoiling quickly, he pressed both hands aganst his chest, feeling them tremble against his flesh. The shaking quickly traveled up his shoulder and down his spine until the spasm encompassed his entire body.

Was it another panic attack? Anxiety flash? The voices? No, his breathing was coming out a little quickly, but it didn’t feel like the generalized dissociation that came from panic of anxiety, and so far the voices remained a dull murmur of white noise. Before he could think about it further, a red gloved hand splayed itself cross his clasped ones, soft curls brushing against his cheek.

Oh, oh!

Body going ridged, Akechi forced himself to calmly rise from his seat. He had to bite down the panicked urge to sprint towards the men’s restroom, forcing his shaking legs to walk calmly there instead. The moment he was safe from prying eyes, he dashed into the toilet stall farthest from the door and locked himself in. There was no fighting it, all of this was his punishment. A touch, feather-light and motherly gentle brushed against his cheek, guiding his head to tilt up in the opposite direction.

Tears burned his eyes as he looked up as the smiling face of Kurusu Akira, blood falling in rivers from the gaping hole in his head. This was his punishment, all of it was.

Racing after cognitive Joker was not easy. The once dead cognition turned and weaved his was though tangles of back roads and throws of ally ways. Clearly, whatever it was he was hunting for had him ensnared. Only once did the cognition look back on his pursuers, grey eyes unreadable to he looked directly at his masked counterpart. Several times Oracle though she’d lost him, only to find the cognition lingering at the mouth of another turn, as though waiting for them.

“Guys! Shadow Akechi is just up ahead!” Oracle warned them.

“What? Ifs he leading us to the shadow? Why?” Fox demanded, as if any of them and he answer.

It didn’t take long for the scream to be heard. When they emerged into a cramp back road, the cognition’s back to them, the found shadow Akechi loomed over some man, freather puffed up on end. The man was clearly babbling nonsens, pleading for his life, crying about something related to his family.

“Shut up!” Akechi snarled, clearly exasperated by this cognition. “I’m not here to kill you, but you’ll likely wish you were dead!”

The shadow placed a tolloned hand over the man’s face. “Loki, call of chaos,” The brunetter murmured. The sound of something breaking, followed by a dark figure manefesting in the air above the shadow’s head. The knealing figure with glowing eyes grinned, and then a dark aura inveloped the man. The figure vanished into mist as Akechi withdrew his hand, the man beneath him devolving into a mess of screaming and howling, body contoring in a way that almost didn’t seem human.

“Akechi!” Cognitive Joker called, catching the shadows' attention. Bloody tears were drimbling from wine colored eyes, and the face the inhuman shadow made when he noticed the cognition seemed, so, resigned.

“So, you’ve finally reawakened, right,” The shadow mumbled. “Let’s get this over with, neither I nor my other self has the mental capacaty to handle much more of this,"

Walking forward, shadow Akechi withdrew a gun in one hand, and a silencer in the other. Delicatly, he screwed the silencer into the barrle of the gun, brunette hair fluttered over his face to hide his eyes. Cognative Joker remained in place, back to them to hide his face. When he was close enough, Akechi placed the gun aganst the cognition’s forehead, expression somewhere between unreadable and just empty. “This is where your justice end,” the shadow declared. The silencer muffled the gunshot down into a pop, the cognitiontoppling over into a wall. Akechi was still for a moment, smoke rising in a thin wisp from the muzzle of the silencer like a cigarete.

Eventually, Akechi unscrewed the silencer and placed both it and the gun away. Tears falling anew, red and black mingling on his face, the shadow dropped down and brought a clawed hand to close the cognition’s glassy eyes. “Rest easy, until the next time,” The shadow murmured, almost lovingly. 

Hand returning to his side, the shadow remained still for a moment, then all but collapsed aganst the cognition of Joker; face pressed into his chest and he cuddled into the deadman’s lap.

“What do you lot want?” Shadow Akechi asked, voice dripping with venom as he finally acknowledged the thieves. His eyes were hard, yet oh so tired.

“I was alive before, but now I’m dead, why?” Joker asked. It was the biggest question he had.

The shadow sighed and shifted closer to the dead cognition. “This one and the one you saw in Leblanc are two different cognitions, one alive and well, the other dead and repeating tragedy… essentially Schrodinger's cat,” The shadow explained. “I- my other self- knew realistically you were dead, we killed you after all, but deep down we didn’t want t you dead. After I saw you the first time, that second cognition apeared.”

“Even after killing him, the real Akechi didn’t want to belive Joker was dead, to the point that when you saw him alive, the second him came into existence.” Queen interpreted.

“…yes.”  
“What the eff,” Skull muttered, running a hand through unruly blond locks.

“Um, I noticed you said both you and the real Akechi can’t take much more of this,” Noir started.

“In the real world, my other self is suffering though a hallucination involving a dead Kurusu, and likely after the voices will grow into their screaming din, again,” The shadow said, as though talking about the weather. “obviously neither of us have much stability left, before we finally buckle under the weight of it all,”

The shadow pulled himself from the dead cognition, throw a wayward glance at the other cognition, or where the man once sat. “Alright, time to drag you back before I become incapacitated,” he muttered.

“Ah, taking him back to the tower?” Queen asked.

Shadow Akechi froze, then gave them all a panicked look. “You’ve been there, to the black tower?”

“Hm, yes?” Panther answered wearily. “we followed that-“ She indicated to the now dead Joker, “-all the way here from the top of it.”

Black and midnight blue fether puffed back into their agitated stance as Shadow Akichi snarled at them. Clearly he didn’t want them there, despite the lack of road blacks. “Stay away from that place!” He spat. “I don’t need any of you fucking around with things that I’ve long buried!”

“What the hell! There wasn’t anything in there!” Skull shot back. “The entire apartment was so bare, don’t ‘cha own anything at all?”

It wasn’t the top of the tower Akechi was being so protective of. “The pit, it leads somewhere you’d rather no one see,”

The shadow glowered at him. So, he was right. “…It doesn't matter, your kind aren’t needed here.” 

“If it’s someplace important, then this dark portal might lead us to the treasure.” Fox pointed out.

“I said stay out of this! I don’t want you here- I never asked for your help!”

“Sorry, but we're here to steal your treasure!” Skull countered with a cocky grin.

Shadow Akechi let out a sharp, frustrated noise as his composure wavered. “Just go away, if your aim is Shido, just give up, neither he nor I will be around for much longer, your presence here isn’t necessary!” He insisted.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Panther demanded.

“It means that all of this is unnecessary, or are you all too dense to get it?"

“Akechi, just what are you planning?” Joker asked. “Is your intention to kill Shido?”

Shadow Akechi started laughing at that, as though he’d heard something funny, if his laughter wasn;t so high in pich and flustered. “Kill? Death would be too kind a fate for him! No, on the 18th, I plan on causing a psychotic break down in the bastard, forcing him to spill every, last, secret. Between that and the violent outburst sure to come with, he’ll tear down his own chance at being prime minister with his own two hands, and then I can off myself in blissful peace, knowing I finally got my vengeance on the source of all of my suffering.” The look on the shadow’s face was somewhere between insane and gleeful. “See, see! There isn’t any reason for you to get involved! It’ll all be over swiftly.”

“Akechi,” Noir murmured.

“Damn it, how is admitting to being suicidal supposed to make us back of!” Skull shouted. “Backin’ out now would be no different than killin’ you ourselves!”

“Skull’s right, and the phantom thieves don’t kill.” Mona agreed.

Akechi sagged in utter disbelief. “you all are complete ideots, aren’t you. No matter how I insist you all stay out, you just keep coming back with that boundless puppy determination, thinking you can solve any problem… too tired to deal with it. Fine, as you can see, I don’t have the energy to stop you all, just do what you want.

“but, don’t come back saying I didn’t warn you.”


	11. Hell Beneath Distopia

As Shadow Akechi predicted, soon after the voices started shouting. Their shadow companion quickly dissolved into a shivering mass of fluffed feathers, whimpering, and bloody tears under the pressure of the voices’ cacophony. In an effort to save time, Joker carried the shivering shadow back to the tower while Skull and Fox carried the dead Akira. The morbidity of the situation was not lost to either male as they insisted on looking at anything other then the dead cognition slumped over their shoulders.

By the time they reached the entrance of the tower, the voices had subsided back into their murmuring and shadow Akechi was able to walk again. Skull and Fox followed him up the spiral staircase to go returning the cognition to his resting place. While they waited for the trio’s return, Oracle, Mona, and Queen began studying the dark pit. There was nothing to see beyond a deep pitch black, almost resembling a black hole that swallowed everything unconditionally. The pit generated a slight white noise- a buzzing staticky sound like what TV snow came with, it wasn’t very loud, the sound was even quieter than the murmuring voices of Akechi’s mind.

The telltale sounds of claws and boots clicking against stone informed them that their companions were descending the stairs. Skull and Fox were in the lead, with Akechi lingering behind, golden eyes fixated on the ground. Arms crossed in such a way it almost seemed he was hugging himself, the shadow refused to look up at them, only shifting his eyes from the ground to the wall, feathers still puffed up somewhat in anxiety.

“As I said earlier, while I truly do not want any of you down in the depths of this place, I am too tired to stop any of you,” Akechi sighed. “So, let me warn you, everything my other self attempts to suppress will be down there; it will be a literal hell. The voices are louder there, and the nightmares exist as more than just dreams. Unlike up here, all shadows will be violent and ready to fight.”

“Do you have any idea where the treasure might be?” Queen asked.

Akechi shrugged. “Most likely in the palace, it used to be in the depths, but it was moved a long time ago, to keep me from doing anything dangerous, or so he said.”

“He?”

“Igor, master of the velvet room, I think it was soon after I learned of the phantom thieves and their ability to change hearts. He is well aware that if I could, I would smash my own treasure to pieces.”

Joker fell his spine crawl at that declaration. Palace rulers always protected their treasures, the cores of their worlds, with just about their own lives. And yet Akechi’s shadow readily admitted that if he could, he would destroy the core of this world, and likely without a second thought. He’d need to as Mona if the feline knew what might happen if a treasure was destroyed inside its palace. It was one thing to steal away someone’s distortion, but to outright destroy it entierly, Joker didn’t want to think about what mental damage that could do.

And then it hit him. Akechi said Igor, master of the velvet room. The other knew about the velvet room? Know about Igor, Caroline, and Justine? Had likely visited the place several times? The long-nosed man had stated before that only people with a contract could enter the room, and none of his companions had ever even seen the doorway. Did that mean Akechi could? He had walked in before mementos trips to alter his roster of personas many times while Akechi was part of their team, and he’d never bothered to hide it. To the others, it just looked like he was meditating, but did it look different to Akechi?

…For now, he’d wait. He could pursue the shadow about it later, Akechi was looking tired and haggard at the moment. He’d also need to have a chat with Igor. The prison master was supposedly the one gifting people with the meta-nav, and he’d had his suspicions of the man after Kaneshiro revealed what he knew about the man in the black mask(Akechi).

“Anything else we should know?” He asked.

“… I don’t know much about the depths- I’ve never gone down there of my own volition. If you want to know more, such as if safe rooms even exist down there, you’ll have to ask my counterpart who dwells there.”

“Wait, are you saying you are not Akechi’s only shadow?!” Mona yelped.

“… I am the self that dwells up here, in the precipice of consciousness, down there is the subconscious, there, the pain and other black emotions have made it into hell. Because my true self can never truly escape the shackles of his past, there exists another me- another reflection of the true self- that lives in the depths, unable to escape to the surface like I can.”

“Well then, Akechi, do you know if there are any safe rooms close to here?” Noir asked.

“You already activated one, my dwelling upstairs.” The shadow replied. “now then, if you’ll excuse me.” With that, the shadow of their former teammate retreated back up the steps to his apartment, or the cognitive interpretations of it.

All remaining eyes turned back to the black pit in question. Not only was Akechi not considered the master of his palace, the shadow itself existed in a pair; the monster who live on the surface, and whatever the other shadows looked like, the part of Akechi that could never escape the trauma of his past.

“Let’s descend now,” He ordered. “we should scope out the depths now, and get a feel for it, that way we can properly prepare for a full exploration of it tomorrow.”

His eyes scanned over his companions, seeing their little nods of agreement. Joker, as the leader, decided to be the first. As his feet slipped past the edge, he entered into free fall, darkness swallowing him whole as wind zipped past his face and skittered the profile of his mask. Above, he heard Skull shout in exhilaration as he followed, accompanied my other faraway sounds of the other thieves making their own leaps of faith into the darkness.


	12. The Depths

Akechi’s shadow had called the lower levels of the palace the ‘depths’, seeing it now, the name was appropriate. The weightless feeling fo free fall was quickly replaced by a sudden stop, kind of like what going down on an elevator felt like. Despite having been sideways in his fall, Joker felt solid ground under his shoes, the thief finding himself crouching upright on a cold stone floor. The shadows receded as a dim bloody red light illuminated the world around them. Thankfully, the fall hadn’t separated the 8 of them, and just about everyone else had landed on their feet, probably for the same odd reason he had.

The room itself was a large one, the size of some fancy ballroom with a ceiling so high up they couldn’t see it past the thick swath of shadows above. The four walls were just barely seeable past drapes of shadows, the dark ash of the stone itself making the shadows look even darker in the low light. Directly in front of them was a hallway, a mouth of darkness completely enshrouded by darkness. From looks alone, it seemed like the room had been carved out of stone, the floor bearing scrape marks like the gouges of a chisel.

The murmuring of voices, likely muttering jeers not unlike the ones heard around shadow Akechi, were louder, a dull roar of whispering voices compared to the quite buzzing static from above. Words and even fragments of sentences were now discernible from the rest of the ‘white’ noise. The voices were repeating the same things they screamed about, and just like then, the woman’s voice was constantly the loudest.

“Guy’s, we’re gonna need to be extra careful,” Oracle piped up. “I can sense the presence of shadows, and they’re all big and nasty ones, but I can pinpoint locations, and all I’m getting from this place is static and snow. We will literally be moving forward blind.”

That was something no one wanted to hear.

“You heard our navigator, we’ll all need to be very careful moving about in this labyrinth, I doubt the shadows alone are all we need to worry about.l” Joker said.

He remembered the violent fury of the sphynx monster Futaba’s cognition had warped her mother into. That hadn’t been a shadow, it was a cognition no different than Kamoshida’s twisted doll version of Ann, and yet it had been powerful enough to contest with the monstrous forms of the palace rulers. It was highly likely that the cognitions down here would be people from Akechi’s past, and going by the jeering that rendered his shadow defenseless, there was little chance these cognitions wouldn’t be warped into powerful monsters equally as powerful as the shadows lurking in the depths.

“Gotcha’, we’ll keep on our toes!” Skull promised.

Oracle retreated back into her persona, it was the safest place for a non-combatant like her, and even if she couldn’t properly scan the place, she might be able to forewarn them to oncoming danger. From what he could see, the labyrinth of the depths was very nostalgic of mementos. The walls weren't covered in pulsing red tubes like veins, nor were there any bones jutting out from the walls and floor, it the heavy darkness and lonely, depressing atmosphere were just the same as the public’s palace. So far, it was a long serious of branching hallways with a few closet-sized rooms peppered here and there, but they had yet to encounter anything like the larger room they’d started in.

“G-guy’s!” Oracle squeaked. “Run! A shadow’s heading you’re way!”

Before Joker could properly act on her warning, tiny smoldering red lights cut through the gloom ahead of them, closing in on them at a trot. Yanking his knife from its sheath, Joker steadied himself, ready for the oncoming attack, when the shadow ducked left into an unseen hallway.

…What?

“L-let go!” Someone screamed. The voice was young, judging by the pitch, someone Oracle’s age, or younger.

The thieves raced down the hall, taking the turn the shadow had. The shadows above looked human enough, much like how shadows in non-mementos palaces looked recognizably human. The shadow before them was nothing even close to a human. Its body was vaguely dog-like; four legs attached to a body. A set of 6 burning red eyes glowered at them from past a mask like jagged shards of glass welded together, rows of sharp teeth buried in pale flesh.

The shadow was biting into its target’s shoulder, blood welling past gums and onto the rough floor, the owner of said shoulder pinned to the ground by the shadow’s bulk. Small hands tried to pry those unrelenting jaws open as the figure beneath it, trying to struggle free like a butterfly already in the arms of a spider. Wide yellow eyes identified the struggling form as the other Shadow Akechi, this one younger than his counterpart above, and much more at the mercy of his palace.

“Heh, looks like I finally caught you, brat.” A sleazy voice chuckled, causing the younger shadow to stiffen.

Emerging from the gloom, a middle-aged man with a malicious smile casually strode over to the inhuman shadow and its prey pinned below. Leaning over the round body of the shadow, the cognition leered down at Akechi, who was frozen in place.

“You know, it really is a pain to have to chase you down, running around this place playing hide-and-seek.” The cognition complained. “Would it kill you to not make this harder than it has to be? I guarantee it would have you a lost of pain, I know it would for me.”

“Oh just shut up!” Panther yelled, whip catching the lesser shadow on the shoulder.

The beast’s jaw’s opened just a bit, giving Joker the chance to dart forward and free Akechi from its jaws, scooping the boy up and retreating back to his companions, knife in hand.

“What the fuck?” The cognition groaned. “What the hell are you brat’s doing here? And don’t you kids know to stay out of the affairs of adults?”

“Not when it’s some sleazy guy hurting a kid!” Skull snapped.

“Che, so what?” The cognition scoffed. “that brat’s mine to do with as I please.”

“What arrogance!” Fox bristled. “Children are not your playthings!”

“Really? ‘Cause I know none of those caregivers over at the orphanage wouldn’t give a damn what I do to the brat. He’s unwanted trash, he should be graitful I even took him in at all.”

“Someone really said such horrible things? No one, no one deserves to be treated like that!” Noir muttered. Her ax flashed in the low light before coming down hard on the dog-shadow’s head. The shadow yelped before turning to ash.

The cognition flinched, an ugly expression maring his featurs. There was a moment of pause, as the cognition debated on what to do next. With a callus sneer, the man retreated back into the darkness, deciding that 8 against 1 was not a fight he saw as worth it.


End file.
